Decision Of A Lifetime
by Kelex
Summary: Lex's decision. Spoilers for "TEMPEST." Pre-slashy Clark/Lex.


  
Decision of a Lifetime--Kel  
  
Notes: For Diana who demanded a happy ending, and for Lady Eu and everyone else who says they can't kill Lionel. I say… you damn skippy they can't!  
  
Lex couldn't remember why he was frightened. He shouldn't be. The storm outside, the tornado, well that was certainly a cause for concern but… he had more important things to deal with.  
  
The river of blood that ran down the left side of his face.  
  
The fact that his father was lying on the floor of his study, begging Lex for help, nearly decapitated by the ceiling support.  
  
Minor things, really.  
  
Nothing that Lex couldn't handle.  
  
Except… he couldn't. Not this. Not having to choose between life and death. And not even his own, but that of his father. The wind was buffeting him, trying to blow him off his feet as he came to stand over Lionel.  
  
"Lex… my son… help me, please…" Barely audible over the wind.  
  
Lionel, pleading for his life. Lex had the power to save him, or deny him and watch him die. He was Lionel's son; Lionel was his father. Lionel had been horrified to realize that Lex thought of them as enemies instead of the heir apparent being groomed for takeover.  
  
"Dad…" Again, barely audible over the wind as Lex fell to his knees. The blood in his eye was nearly blinding him, the thoughts in his mind nearly striking him unable to move as thousands of thoughts flew through in seconds.  
  
_The plant problems will be over.  
  
No more competition.  
  
No more lies.  
  
I can stay in Smallville until I'm ready to ascend.  
  
I killed my own father. As surely as I'd put a gun to his head, I've killed my own father._  
  
"Dad!" Lex crawled across the space between them, raising a purple-sleeved arm to mop at the blood in his eyes. "You have to help me!" The ceiling supports creaked again, and the beam slid even closer to Lionel's throat. "Push up, Dad, I can't move this by myself!" His words were ripped out of his throat by the wind, debris in the office flying all over them. Glass from the windows had already nicked Lionel's face, and shards that were caught in the whirlwind were slowly chipping away at Lex's skin. He threw what strength he had into shoving at the support beam that pinned his father's legs. "Dad, you've got to help me help you!"  
  
"Lex! Son!" Lionel's voice was desperate. "I never wanted us to be enemies!" His hands braced against the beams, and he was pushing with all his might. "I love you, Lex!"  
  
"Don't talk! Push!" Lex was heaving everything he had against the beam. He felt it starting to give, but as soon as it did, the ceiling beam did as well. "Dad! Move!!"  
  
The ceiling support collapsed entirely, sending down nearly half the room as he scrabbled for cover. The tornado seemed to be ripping through the center of the room, and as Lex shielded his head with his arms, his eyes were riveted to the ceiling beam that had embedded itself in the floor. "Dad!" Lex screamed out, but he couldn't hear himself in the rushing of the wind. The storm was on top of them now, and his only prayer was for survival.  
  
Lex tried to fight his way to his feet, but the wind picked him up like a doll, throwing him headfirst into what remained of the stone-walled fireplace. His last conscious thought before blacking out was that repairs were going to be a bitch.  
  
~ * ~ * ~   
  
Moaning was the first thing that Lex heard when he woke, and he realized it was his own. The storm had seemingly passed while he was unconscious, and then he registered that someone was touching his face. "Clark?" he asked groggily, trying to force himself to focus. His left eye was sealed shut by the blood from his head wound, and his right eye was bleary.  
  
"No, son, it's me." The feathery touches returned to his face.   
  
"Dad?" Lex fought to sit up, but quickly found that he couldn't move without intense waves of nausea and dizziness. "Are you all right?" He realized after asking that it was an incredibly stupid question, but he was in no shape to monitor what his brain was doing.  
  
"For the most part." There was a pause. "Thank you, Lex."  
  
"Your legs. How did you get out? Over here? I saw the ceiling--"  
  
"Before the ceiling collapsed, you'd pushed the beam enough out of the way that I could roll under it. When the supports collapsed, I rolled to the side, and the collapse crushed the end of the beam and raised it so I could pull myself out. I stayed down until the storm passed, and then I saw you crumpled against the fireplace."  
  
"So you're not dead." That was the only query that Lex's painful thought processes could unearth.   
  
"Not yet."  
  
Lex had let his right eye close, but at that, he snapped his watering eye open and willed it to clear. As soon as it did, he saw why. A deep red gash marred Lionel's chest. "Dad. You're not going to die on me." He lifted his head from where it lay pillowed in his father's lap. "Christ. I have to get you help."  
  
"Lex… stop. I meant what I said before. I never meant for us to be enemies. You're my son. I wanted you to be strong. Fearless. Proud."  
  
Lex struggled to get to his feet, then settled for his knees when another wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. "Later, Dad. Just… concentrate on not bleeding to death. I'm going… to see if I can find help."  
  
"Lex, you're in no condition to go anywhere." Lionel's voice was weak, but had lost none of its thundering arrogance.   
  
"And you're not in any condition to stop me." With a surge of effort, Lex lurched to his feet, his hands gripping his head as he moaned quietly, willing the nausea to just _stop._  
  
"The phones are already down, I'm sure the electricity is too."  
  
"But the cars all have phones in them, Dad. If I can get to one of the cars, then I can call paramedics." He felt Lionel reaching up to steady him, and for a moment wanted to throw off the anchoring hand, then gripped it tightly. "Just don't die on me, Dad."  
  
"My word as a Luthor."  
  
Lex dropped Lionel's hand as he staggered out the door, gripping the wall tightly for support. He'd barely made it ten paces in the hallway before falling to his knees again. A pair of strong hands lifted Lex to his feet. "Lex!"  
  
"Clark?" This time he was fairly sure of the young man's identity.  
  
"Lex, my God!"  
  
"No… my father. In there," Lex said, clinging to Clark with one arm and gesturing behind him with the other. "He needs help."  
  
"They're trying to organize a first-aid station in town, the EMTs are going nuts." He half-carried Lex back into the room with Lionel. "My God," he said again, looking around at the near complete destruction of Lex's office. Then as he saw Lionel, he paled. "Lex, where are the keys to the truck?"  
  
"On the garage wall," he replied as Clark eased him to the floor beside Lionel.   
  
"All right. I'm going to go and get the truck and pull it around to the back here. I'll get you and your dad down to town and get you both patched up."  
  
As Clark disappeared, Lex turned back to his father. "I told you I'd find help." He started stripping off the purple shirt and then unfastened his belt. "Lie down, Dad."  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Making sure you don't bleed to death." He studiously ignored the odd angle of his father's leg as he ripped open the blood-soaked dress shirt. The wound was ragged and deep, and Lex stuffed his shirt over it, packing it into the cut and then looping his belt around his father's chest. "That should hold, temporarily."  
  
Lex kept his weight on the bandage, hoping that the pressure would keep the bandage in place. He was concentrating on fighting the pounding waves of nausea that rocked him, and was startled by his father's touch to his face again. "Lex. Look at me." Lex turned so that his working eye was trained on Lionel. "I love you, Lex. I always have. We are not enemies."  
  
Lex realized his was rubbing his cheek against Lionel's hand before he even realized what he was doing. "I never wanted to be your enemy, Dad. I need to be able to do things on my own. I need to fight my own battles. Forge my own way. But…" and Lex's voice cracked. "But that doesn't mean I'm not your son."  
  
"I'm sorry, Lex." Lex felt his father hugging him, and his eyes were blinded again by tears. "I'm so sorry."  
  
"I'm sorry too, Dad." Lex returned the hug. "I'm sorry too." He heard a horn honking, and dried his eyes enough to see Clark pulling the truck beside the castle. The only problem was they were up on a higher floor. "Clark!"  
  
"Don't worry, Lex, I got it covered! Trust me!"  
  
"Why do I want to worry when he says that?" Lex muttered. He couldn't wait to see what Clark had in store.  
  
"I found something in the garage, down on the end with the gardener's tools and stuff. I figured it might come in handy, so I strapped it in the truck bed!" Clark shouted. Lex looked over to find Clark standing on a scissors platform as it slowly rose to the broken out windows. "I have no idea what it's used for, but it's better than a cherry-picker, and it'll let you and your dad lie down."  
  
"I should have known," Lex muttered. "Okay, Dad… this is it. We're going to get you taken care of."  
  
"Lex… you may have doubted yourself, but I never did," Lionel said confidently. "Thank you."  
  
Clark had jumped easily from the platform to the destroyed office. "Lex, can you walk?"  
  
"Sort of," was his reply.  
  
"Okay. I'll help you over first, and then I'll come back for your father." True to his word, Clark wrapped Lex's arm around his neck and half carried and half dragged Lex to the edge. Reaching out with his foot, Clark straddled the distance between the building and the platform and lifted Lex the rest of the way until he was seated. He followed quickly, putting his hand on Lex's shoulder. "Lex… I'm glad you're okay." His eyes caught Lex's as his thumb briefly caressed Lex's shoulder through the ripped shirt. "Really glad."  
  
Clark's voice had dropped to a whisper, and Lex was surprised at the tenderness in his friend's voice, and the gentle reverence of the brief touch. "I'm glad too, Clark. I'm glad you found me." He returned the look that Clark was giving him, and smiled encouragingly. "Really glad."  
  
Clark flushed, and then cleared his throat. "I'm going for your dad now. I'll be back." Then he swung back for Lionel.  
  
Lex watched in amazement as young Clark bent and lifted Lionel in a gentle carry, trying not to jostle the broken limbs or the bloody bandage. By the time he reached the edge, Lionel had quietly lost consciousness, and Clark leapt easily with the large man in his arms and landed beside Lex. "Here you go, Lex. Watch him as I go down, okay?"  
  
It was Lex's turn to cradle Lionel's head in his lap as Clark lowered the platform. For the first time, he saw the numerous cuts on his father's face, the rip in his slacks that revealed a piece of bone that had broken the skin, and his stomach rolled violently. Lionel had been in so much pain and he'd hidden it all to comfort his son. Lex bent his head so that his forehead pressed against his father's.   
  
As soon as they were safe in the bed of the truck, Clark got into the cab and tore out of the grounds like a bat out of hell.  
  
~ * ~ * ~   
  
A month had passed since the twisters had ripped through Smallville. Lionel had agreed to re-open the factory as long as the employee buy-out was dropped. Lex used the majority of his mother's trust fund to pay the second mortgages that Gabe Sullivan and the others had taken out at the Savings and Loan to support the buyout, and the families had set up plans to repay Lex as quickly as possible.  
  
The majority of Luthor Mansion was in ruins, yet both Lionel and Lex remained living there, Lex overseeing the rebuilding of Smallville while Lionel oversaw the rebuilding of the castle.  
  
There were aftershocks to deal with, aftershocks that Lex truly was not ready to face yet. In the remains of his office was a fireproof--and apparently tornado-proof--safe that held all of Nixon's supposed evidence. Nixon himself was dead, and Lex shed not a single tear. He had been a convenient scapegoat, however, when Lionel had announced that an unscrupulous reporter had given him falsified documentation about the running of the plant. And so even in his death, Roger Nixon served his purpose. Clark's secret, whatever it was, still remained safely with the boy and his parents.  
  
His feelings for his father were in complete turmoil. He had hated the man all his life, and only in desperation had the truth been revealed. Lionel had retreated to a distance almost immediately after his recovery had begun, and yet, something had been different. There was no longer the currents of adversarial hate that flowed in their conversations. Lionel sought Lex's opinions, considered and debated, discarded what would not work and used what did. In the moments of silence, Lionel's words reverberated in his ears. _Lex… you may have doubted yourself, but I never did._  
  
Lex sighed and turned to look out the window. _If you only knew, Dad. The only reason that I saved you is because I didn't want to **become** you._ He truly didn't know what would become of himself or Lionel now. Only that, for the first time in his life, the dark cloud that had seemed to loom over his life was gone.  
  
"Lex?" Clark's voice was hesitant as he stepped into the room with Lex. He was reluctant to interrupt, because his friend looked completely lost in thought. "I can come back."  
  
"No need, Clark." Lex put his water bottle down and turned to face the young man in the doorway. Clark had been his ray of light during this whole fiasco. "You know you're welcome."  
  
"I… well, you seemed like you were thinking hard about something." Clark came quietly into the room, as though he was still afraid of intruding.   
  
"Nothing of any importance." He was glad that Clark had interrupted his brooding. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"Well… I brought dinner. Since, you know, the kitchen…"  
  
"Taking me out to dinner? I'm impressed. Does that make this a date?" Lex laughed as Clark flushed. "All right, I'm sorry. No more dating cracks."  
  
"Thank you," Clark mumbled. He retrieved the picnic basket he'd brought with him and started unpacking it. "Hey, Lex?"  
  
"Yes?" Lex was retrieving bottled water for them both when Clark called him and he straightened.   
  
"I really _am_ glad you're okay."  
  
"I know, Clark. So am I." Lex closed the distance between them, and held out the bottle to Clark. Instead of taking the bottle, Clark's hand closed around Lex's wrist and pulled him even closer, and his lips touched Lex's. A brief, sweet kiss, and then Clark let him go and buried his blushing face back in the picnic basket. "Clark… it's okay. You can kiss me anytime you want. I'm not going to break."  
  
"I know," Clark mumbled again. "I just… want to let you get better first. You got knocked around quite a bit in that storm."  
  
Lex put the bottles down and put one hand on Clark's shoulder. "Trust me, Clark. As long as you're here, I'm going to be just fine."  
  
The End  
  


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